Pretense
by DarkDreamer17
Summary: What if Hermione wasn't who everyone thought she was? What if she can't pretend anymore? Read the story of a tortured soul standing on the edge and see if she will make it... or fall in the abyss of nothingness. ONE-SHOT. READ&REVIEW!


**Author's note: **Hi everyone. I'm back with the same story, but as you will notice, I have re-written it to (and I quote) scare you even more with this little one-shot here. I tried to give it a deeper meaning, what with all the angst and loneliness Hermione must feel. So here it is, and I hope you like and review it :p

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the plot, or should I say the letter.

_To anyone who finds this,_

_The sound of quill scratching on parchment always soothed me. It still does now, but I wonder why I am bothering to write this down; this being my deepest, darkest thoughts and feelings. I'm guessing that you, dear reader, are shocked at this. Me, having troubles nobody is aware of? Well prepare for something utterly dreadful._

_You see, I've been so depressed lately I don't know what kept me alive. The past few years are all a blur to me. No colors have ever gotten through the aura of gray that surrounds me. Why gray? Because it is lifeless. Lifeless like the books I plunge into; lifeless like me._

_Funny how I should write about books now. I mean, it's true that they have been my loyal companions for all those years, but they only represented an escape to the loneliness and the exclusion I've been suffering. At first, I thought of them as a way to prove myself. I wanted to be more than a bushy-haired mudblood; I wanted to shine, to prove my worth to all of the prejudiced bastards. _

_Sadly, all it has done was make me a bushy-haired, now know-it-all mudblood. Not only did my so called friends betray me (might I add, for a reason as stupid as popularity and girls) but so did my precious books. _

_Anyway, it wasn't difficult pretending that my life was as perfect as you all think me. Well give me a little credit here. But I guess it mostly has to do with the fact that nobody would look the way of that ugly bookworm Granger. Nobody cares. However, in the world of pretense (basically meaning Hogwarts), Ginny has Harry, Ron has Lavender, and I had my books._

_So it's all fine and dandy.. Except it's really not. Sometimes I wish I could be a normal outgoing and beautiful 17 year old. I've tried, I promise I did, but I just feel like I don't belong anywhere. _

_Oh, how I envy you, you who can live like there is no tomorrow, you who doesn't have a care in the world. _

_I definitely cannot say the same thing about me. My world, or lack thereof, is very different. I never told anyone, well at least a living person, that my father died. I was thirteen. I guess you could say that I was one of those daughters who was in love with her daddy. This loss led me to believe that I could never find anyone better or at least worthy of him. Maybe that's why my love life is void of, well, love.  
_

_But my mom didn't share my opinion, for one year later she remarried. You can imagine the shock and repulsion I felt for him. Um, no, I guess you can't. _

_Anyway, her husband (I'll never call him stepfather) started getting more and more controlling of my mother and me. They would always fight, then he would leave, get drunk and come back to our house (can't call it home either)._

_This routine lasted for some months, until one night he came back from the pub and.. he went into my room and he had his way with me, meaning he raped me.. repeatedly.. every summer.. every winter or spring break.. _

_I'm so ashamed. I feel dirty, so dirty. I think it's all my fault, and I'm tired of it. Tired of all the pain , the anger and the remorse I have to keep bottled up inside. I feel like any day now I'll explode. I remember one day, I was in the Great Hall eating breakfast when an owl swooped down and left me a letter.. a letter from him. _

_I remember it so clearly now; the words still linger in my head. He told me how he missed me and it goes on with graphic details of what he wanted to do to me when I got back for Christmas. That was when I ran out, letter clutched in my fist, tears streaming down my face. _

_Not one person followed me. I think they didn't even look up from their plates. Tell me, am I really that repulsive? Am I so damn repulsive that you won't look at me, even when I'm dying? _

_Anyway I don't care either about any of you. Each day, you made me want to die even more for in your own, twisted and cruel way, you reminded me that I lost everything and that I am left with nothing. And in return, I'll make sure you know I am dead. I don't want you to start wondering where I am when you need me to do your homework._

_That is why I chose the common room, where my blood will mix with the crimson red of the carpet and leave a stain forever in your minds._

_For I am left with nothing. Nothing except this quill and parchment, nothing except my tears, nothing except this blade. _

_The once Hermione Jane Granger ._

**DarkDreamer**


End file.
